A Place To Be
by Velasa
Summary: A Piccolo contemplation, set after OAV6. What makes a home?


A Place To Be ~~~ by Velasa  
  
~~~NOTE- God bless my little brother. With a simple sentence, he gave me an idea to write with. I've been blocked up for months... this is no reparation for being gone so long, but I do hope it's the beginning of more productivity on my side. I missed writing. ~ The fic's set after OAV6, when they the Z senshi have returned home to Chiukusei, and deals with Piccolo, as do all my stories. I has my MIDI for "Californication" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers on while writing it, so if you can find it, pop it on while you're reading. Music always helps set a mood for a story. If there's an aspect to this you don't understand, I explained at the end. Enjoy. ~~~  
  
  
  
The wind blows in quiet howls across the Tenkai. A group of figures stands by the doors, speaking to the young kami- one shape standing off to the side, feet touching to the edge of the platform, looking out at the world stretching out far below him. It almost seems like he isn't listening.... but the backward twitch of tipped elven ears shows otherwise.  
  
A stronger gust of wind flits across the tiles- sending a cascade of white twirling around the emerald pillar- swirling cloak almost shrouding his form as clouds whip by in the endless sky above.  
  
Piccolo's eyes are empty, listening to them. They're laughing together, congratulating themselves on their recent victory. About fighting the Gete star and it's minions, re-telling the story of the fight to the young nameccian. Son Goku's tone is loose and jovial as always, Krillan adding side remarks every now and then- Yagirobe drowning them all out whining about almost being eaten. Gohan's at home, sleeping- his mother had picked him up immediately and left without a word to her husband. Roshi and the pig had left for the island as well. Vegeta, had vanished without a trace.  
  
Soon enough Piccolo simply flew off, leaving them behind- alot on his mind.  
  
Son'd always had a way of simplifying things... he'd made it all sound so clean-cut, like it'd all been a game now forgettable....  
  
Night falling in the sky, coloring the emerald figure flashing across the landscape in a prism of reds and oranges, the colors drenching into his cloak, yet the eyes still blank- thinking. Remembering....  
  
He could still remember the first time he'd opened his eyes on the first world. Darkness and sea all around him- an almost ethereal feeling in the air, like the ground below his feet was alive, reaching out to him. It was something he'd never forget- the force in the air. A static yet kinetic energy, a lifeforce.... He'd know that it was meant to be his home, even if he'd been deaf and blind.... He'd belonged there.....  
  
But this had been different. Neo Namecksei had been as any other planet.... dead earth. Something that had never bothered him before.  
  
A tingling against his skin breaks his train of thought- he glances up at the sky, raindrops flickering over his face- the clouds opening up and letting go their burdens all across the Paoz mountain range- seeping into his skin before he gets the chance to duck to cover.  
  
With a sigh, he floats down into the forest, drifting through the canopy to the ground. Stalks through damp soil and moss-strung trees, uncoiled ferns reaching out for raindrops, old growth hardwoods and young pines- wandering, yet knowing where he wants to go. Knowing that he'll find it eventually. The rain patters down silently through the leaf sky, slinking down sapling stalks, letting out quiet little 'plip' sounds as it reaches the ground- the noise of hundreds echoing through the trees like a nymph's melody.  
  
The forest starts to darken around him- and he knows he's close. He simply continues his slow pace, seeming to disappear into the treeshadows, only the soft sounds of his feet and flickers of ivory cloak giving his presence away.  
  
Suddenly the raindrops stop reaching him- clattering down on the solid canopy overhead. The path before him is almost pure blackness- but he simply continues walking on. He's been here before, after all. It always leads to the same place, when he just lets himself wander through the forest with a troubled mind.....  
  
The rainsound stops, and he only hears his own footfalls on the leaf floor- a flicker of light appearing in the distance. The undergrowth starts to reappear around him as he comes closer to the end- and an explosion of light flares out as the canopy fades away.  
  
Glancing around in silence, he knows he's there again- breathes in softly, peeling the wet cloak and turban off, shrugging them to the ground, sitting down and staring out at the clearing.  
  
The old hardwoods encircle a small glen, clear pools scattered across it- he lets his bare feet trail in one of them, arms laying by his sides, eyes closed- letting his thoughts roll over in his mind, but not saying a word. It never felt right to speak here.  
  
He'd run into this place long ago, when he was still young and just training Gohan- he didn't remember how he'd gotten there, or why.... he'd simply been troubled and wandering- and suddenly here. It'd happened again, and again, and again- drawling him in seemingly of it's own accord. He didn't understand why. Whatever strange feeling there was in the air meant no malice. He felt the same, strange force here that he had on Namecksei....  
  
Piccolo tilted his head back, eyes quiet- not the stiff silence they so often held, but a more somber one. He didn't feel at home on Chiukusei anymore. Hadn't since he'd opened his eyes on Old Namecksei. All that had been keeping him here was his allies, and Gohan.... But now that he knew Neo Namecksei was not like it at all, he felt.... empty. Though he denied it often enough, his soul was nameccian- more so than warrior. Senshi he was, but his blood was his blood. And he had no home. The eyes close gently with a soft sigh, the emerald form sprawling out on it's back, arms folded behind his head. He would stay, if only for the others.....  
  
It's not like he had anywhere else he could go.  
  
Slowly sleep twined into his mind, drifting off in a strange sense of peace, the night winds blowing warm through the still night air. If he'd been awake, he might have noticed a flash of pure emerald eyes in the shadows- sad irises watching out over him. But he was not.  
  
The world wandered on in it's slow pace, oblivious to the resting soul as the eyes watched over it, only the passing winds and the stars above playing witness as Kurai no Onna returned to the sky, leaving one of her children safely where he lie. He would find his own peace, one day.  
  
  
  
FIN. 2:52 PM 8/25/02  
  
  
  
~~NOTE- Kurai no Onna is one of my other short stories, telling my own nameccian myth- for the short version, she's the mother of the namecksei- jin race and watches over her children. For the full version, you can check it out on my account here. I hope to be posting again soon. Ciao. ~~ 


End file.
